


Cascading Contingencies

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars Silly Sides [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Brothers being assholes, Crack, Gen, Humor, The Wolfpack's sub-par artifact containment procedures, With A Twist, minification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: Once again, a Shebs contacts Rex for post-containment-breech assistance.
Series: Soft Wars Silly Sides [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706599
Comments: 39
Kudos: 313





	Cascading Contingencies

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on Tumblr yonks ago. Totally forgot about it til I saw someone like the old post in notes today. Thank you friend! Cleaned up a bit but not too much, it _is_ still crack.

The only mercy, meager and token as it is, is that for once Rex isn’t asleep when the call comes. Not, of course, for either lack of trying or lack of will. Oh no, Rex would _love_ to be asleep right now.

“You have a circulation problem,” he grunts. Jesse gamely ignores the hint. Freezing toes jam under Rex’s shoulder and icy fingers slap at his calves. He shifts, much too tired to bicker. 

He'd kick, but Jesse's conveniently got a hand right at a nerve in the back of Rex’s knee and it really isn't worth it. The Scout settles heavily into the suddenly-available warm spot he's bullied for himself, pillow smashed against Rex’s ankles.

Rex should have karked off to bunk with Hardcase when this whole thing had started.

“Kriff, _Jesse_ ,” he barks when those frigid fingers decide to burrow under his knee. Jesse pats him, unapologetic, and doesn’t budge.

“I’ll get that looked at,” he promises, every word loudly enunciated. “Just as soon as I find myself a medic with actual taste in casual entertainment.”

“ _Mindless_ entertainment,” Kix snips. He’s got his back firmly and pointedly to them and his front snugged up against the wall of his own bunk. “Limmie is notoriously under-stimulating -”

“You can’t just state baseless opinions as _fact_ -”

“ _P_ _rovably dull_ -”

Hardcase sleep-talks, but at least with him Rex would only have to bear _one_ side of an argument.

When the call comes, Jesse’s commandeered most of the space of Rex’s bunk. He couldn’t _possibly_ share with someone spouting such ignorance after all, _Kix_. But he also couldn’t possibly leave such ignorance unanswered even though he has _his own room_ with his very own bed and doesn’t need to be claiming 83% of Rex’s.

When the call comes, Jesse and Kix have lobbed petty insults for nearly an hour. Rex has learned more than he ever wanted to know about Kix’s addiction to Dancing Through The Stars and Jesse’s pointed opinions on Fwillsving’s chances at the cup this year.

(Jesse’s wrong, naturally, and if his knee wasn’t half-crushing Rex’s ribs he’d tell him so. Bylluran Athletic all the way.)

When the call comes, Rex has a moment to appreciate the interruption.

Only a moment.

“There may have been an accident,” Cody admits. The baby tries to stick a hand in his mouth.

* * *

“The Commander is prevaricating,” Lt Boil coos nastily. He neatly interrupts Little General Obi-Wan Kenobi’s quest to summit Cody’s head and bounces him. Kenobi is _thrilled_. Tiny hands smack at Lt Boil’s mustache in squealy glee. “Isn’t he? Yes he is. Yes he _is_! A shitty attempt too isn’t it? You can already do better and you don’t even know what words are.”

“Should you really be cursing in front of him?” Cody frets.

“Cork you very much,” Lt Boil sings without missing a beat. “Cork you up the asphodel.”

Ships run on Coruscant time. All signs point to Lt Boil having been newly awoken for this. There’s a chance, ever so small, that Cody deserves his mockery.

“Rex,” Cody says and fails miserably at not sounding pleading.

‘ _Nice to be needed’_ Jesse signs and Rex ignores.

“Of course I’ll help,” Rex replies and Cody is clearly stressed if he doesn’t catch the shades of assholery Rex couldn’t quite squelch. He’s partway through gratitude before Rex continues. “But first I’m comming Wolffe.”

“Do not comm Wolffe.”

Rex has already commed Wolffe. It’ll be the first message he sees in the morning. Rex has thoughtfully included a picture.

“I’m definitely comming Wolffe. He’ll need to know there’ll be a delay on that artifact containment review.” Cody glares tiredly at Rex, and Rex tries to arrange his face into something professional. Kix snickers, so he knows he fails.

Rex’s brother sighs. “Where did I go wrong with you?”

“I’ll make you a list.”

Kenobi, and it _is_ Kenobi there’s no mistaking that hair, worms his way out of the Lt’s grip and down too low for the holorecorder to pick up. Whatever he does puts the widest-eyed, softest smile on Cody’s face. Lt Boil snorts.

“If you plan to melt, I can get a Shiny down here with a mop,” he drawls.

Jesse goes the blank faced of wanting-to-cackle-but-superior-officer. Kix glances up from his research, lips twitching. ‘ _Cute_ ’ he signs. Rex ignores them both; _they’re_ not in the holocom visual sensor range.

Cody snaps to awareness. “Which of us adopts orphan waifs that ambush us on battlefields Lt?”

Lt Boil shrugs, hands a surrender. “No need to get mean, we’re all _friend_ _ly_ here. Sir. And your _friend_ the General isn’t great at the whole karking walking thing right now, is he?”

Cody smacks a shoulder against the Lt’s. They battlesign bicker.

‘ _Worse than us_ ’ Jesse signs, eyes alight with wonder.

‘ _I tried to warn_,’ Rex snaps back.

‘ _Contagious, declarative_ ,’ Kix waves. ‘ _Cure unknown_ ’.

‘ _Kark you kindly_.’ They both titter. Jesse scrambles over Kix’s shoulder to snag the medic’s bucket and get the best recording angle. How nice, that they’re _now_ able to put aside their recreational differences.

Cody and his Scout squabble, and a tiny red head finally reenters the viz sensor range far in the distance.

Who knows what Kenobi’s found to toddle merrily after? Dust motes maybe, dancing under the lights of the storage bay. He isn’t thwarted at all by the fact that he never catches anything, he’s just so happy to try. While they watch, his enthusiasm outpaces his feet: he topples backwards, lands on his rump with an _paf_ of a makeshift towel diaper, and a comically wide-eyed look of surprise.

It, like everything else, is unbearably adorable.

So is the cut-off gurgle of distress Cody tries to hide. Lt Boil is just as bad: he’s two steps forward before Kenobi’s even fully landed. “He’s fine,” Rex assures and knows full well neither hear him.

Obi-Wan goes ahead and proves him right: he expertly rolls himself onto his stomach, flails his knees and fists under him and wriggles his way upright. The tumble didn’t even slow him down. Off he goes, a giggling, fire-topped missile on pudgy little legs zipping merrily across the storage bay. Far along the back wall, hazmat-suited troopers poke at remains of an ancient, shattered crate with poles. They awkwardly waft him back towards center when he gets too close to the debris.

It’s a good thing they’re as prepared as they are. Seems their cleanup procedures are better than their containment.

“I’m aware of the irony,” Cody tries, as if that will at all change the fact that Rex has already commed Wolffe, and that he’s periodically forwarding additional pictures.

“Does he have teeth yet?” Kix calls.

“ _Yes_ ,” someone out of viz range hollers back with the voice of first-hand experience. “A karking bunch of em, and kriffing pointy.”

“Don’t curse in front of the General,” Cody yells. They can’t make out the response, but it doesn’t sound particularly respectful.

Rex’s ‘pad dings. He checks it, obediently forwards what Kix has found on dietary needs with the abbreviated Code Red plans. Ghost is only two days out from Coruscant: surely they can keep their General out of more trouble until then?

“Hey Cody?” Cody grunts, distracted with the incoming files. Rex adds the specs for the habitat bubble. Does General Kenobi strictly need one? Maybe not. Does Rex think it would be hilarious? Absolutely.

Then again, this is the man that raised Anakin. There’s a good chance Rex’s Jedi came by his reckless honestly.

General Kenobi strikes out and this time there’s something different about the way he moves. This time he moves with purpose, a toddler on a mission. Rex doesn’t trust that gleeful glint in those blue eyes or that determined waddle one iota. “Cody. Where’s he going?”

Cody stirs, blinks up confused from his holopad a long second before his eyes track across the room. “What? Oh _shit_! Shit Boil get the door!”

“Language,” Rex sings sweetly.

“Cork you up the asphodel,” Cody snaps and jogs out of view.

Jesse leans heavily into Rex side, all the better to record as much of the mayhem as possible on Kix’s helmet. “Ten credits say they lose him.”

Something falls out of view, someone screeches. Someone else yells ‘ _h_ _erd him this way_!’

“Sucker bet,” Rex decides. “Hey Cody? Are those open vents back there?”

“ _Shit the vents!_ ”


End file.
